The Great Solar Eclipse of 2017 crossed the continent, from Oregon to South Carolina, and gave millions of people the chance to witness one of the most awe-inspiring events in the natural world.

But you had to be within the "path of totality", a narrow band across the earth's surface several thousand miles long but only about 70 miles wide. Outside that band you would only see a partial eclipse, not a total eclipse.

And there is no such thing as a "partial total eclipse", despite the impression blogs and the news media might give. I honestly think that's why so many people misunderstand the utter beauty of the spectacle; they may have seen a partial eclipse in the past that was total somewhere else, and even though they weren't in the path the news kept gushing about it being a total eclipse, so they assume they must have seen a total eclipse and just didn't find it all that impressive.


Posted by Dan 08/29/2017, revised 09/06/2017

"They cancelled the NBA," Brad said, glancing up from his phone as we stood beneath a digital sign reading "Cancun," awaiting our boarding group. Brad had been warning me ominously about the inevitable cancellation of my upcoming race for over three weeks now, and yet each time I checked, the Ironman website still showed all races proceeding as planned. The pandemic had already seeped into nearly every country across the globe by now, but Mexico was thus far untouched. Maybe Mexico was actually the best place to be headed?

This was a trip I had been planning for a year now, our first international travel in almost a decade, and I had spent the last nine months diligently consuming podcasts, books and online courses in Spanish, determined to be a fluent speaker by the time we arrived. The Ironman 70.3 Campeche race was an excuse to explore a new country and immerse ourselves in a different culture, and I was eager for the opportunity to learn, and to experience a new place.

But that excitement had given way to unease. Doubts clung to us as we boarded the plane. Bundled appropriately for the Denver chill, we endured the entire flight with faces covered and gloves on, too nervous to eat or drink, tensing each time we heard a passenger cough or sneeze.

Once in the customs line in Cancun, the 85 degree heat forced us to shed our extra layers of protection. It was clear we were the only people there with contagion on our minds. People crowded close together in long lines while impatient children darted back and forth, anxious to start their tropical vacations.

We were relieved that the second leg of our trip was in the safety and privacy of a rental car, a six hour drive across the Yucatan Peninsula, bringing us to our destination on the Gulf of Mexico, just before midnight.


Posted by Kimberly 03/30/2020

After packing some camping gear on his bicycle and hitching a ride to British Columbia, Nik spent part of this summer riding his bicycle from Canada to California.

Nik still lives in Santa Cruz, where he spends time playing beach volleyball and going to school at Cabrillo College.
Posted by Dan 08/15/2007

It seems like almost everybody around here has a "Tail Tale" or two to tell, but until about a month ago, this wahine didn't. All I had on my fishing resume was a morning at a reservoir with my grandpa, back when the top of my head barely reached his hip. I remember we used bright orange bait that reminded me of Play-Doh®, and I sang "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" all the way through... three times. Poor grandpa.

On that morning, the guy sporting the plumber's crack next to us on the dock hooked a stocked trout, and let me reel it in. But in 26 years of my life, I had never felt the pure excitement of the tug on the line and the whirlwind fight that follows. Fortunately, I am now blessed to live a stone's throw from the waters of the Pacific, with fish-loving friends ready and willing to share their passion.


Posted by Whitney 05/01/2013